Tiger by the Tail
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: The Behavioral Analysis Unit is working better than it ever has, with new members in tow. When they take on a gruesome case in upstate New York, old faces resurface & old wounds reopen. They all need to put personal differences aside, because time is running out. One of the most atrocious un-subs they've ever encountered may get away, unless they can catch the tiger by the tail.
1. Chapter 1

**_A sequel, if you will, to Unrequited._**

 ** _Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

 _Passion is a positive obsession; obsession is a negative passion. - Paul Carvel._

 **The BAU Jet, Runway of San Antonio International Airport**

"Come on," a man, sitting back in a reclined aisle seat of a private jet griped as he hit the side of his cell phone with an open palm. "We aren't even in the air yet, how do I have no signal?"

An auburn-haired woman smirked at him as she shimmied into her seat beside him. "Maybe because you dropped your phone down a storm drain last night?" She chuckled as she took the device out of his hands and flipped open a tiny panel on the side. She carefully used her fingernails to pull out a memory card and a SIM card.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked her, his eyes narrowing.

She scoffed and handed the now-useless shell of a phone to him as she reached into a paper shopping bag and pulled out a white box. She lifted the top off, slowly prying a new cell phone out of its molded plastic packaging, and she slipped the two cards into their slots. She hit the power button and then leaned over again, this time fishing the charging cable out of the bag at her feet. She connected one end to the phone and plugged it into an outlet on the side of the plane, to her left. Raising an eyebrow, she handed him the phone and said, "You're welcome."

He smirked at her and shook his head. "Thanks," he laughed, moving in for a kiss. His left hand ran through her hair, his ring catching in a curl and tugging free, as he moaned her name softly into her mouth. His right hand, holding his new phone, slid into her lap. He chuckled again when he felt her hands drop over his. "I love you," he whispered.

"Yeah, I know you do," she said, grinning as her eyes shut and her head rubbed softly against his. "I love you, too." She kissed the end of his nose and was about to move her lips back where they belonged, against his, when a throat cleared. Her eyes shot toward another man, standing in between the rows of seats.

"We're taking off in a few minutes," the man said, looking around at the attentive faces of his team. "Normally, we wouldn't dive into another case this soon, but JJ gave each of you all the files, and I don't think I need to tell you that time is critical, so as soon as we land..."

"We got it, Hotch," a dark-skinned, suave-seeming man said, eyeing him curiously. "You think we're new at this?"

"No, Morgan, I just..." Aaron Hotchner, supervising agent of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, ran a hand down his face, grimacing at the feel of stubble even though he'd shaved before leaving the hotel that morning. "This is going to be draining on all of us, for a lot of reasons," he paused and looked to his right, shooting pointed looks at the two newest members of his unit. "Some of us might take this personally." He turned fully toward the pair, ignoring their tangled hands and worried expressions. "Stabler, I need to know that you can put things..."

"I can separate my personal life from my job!" Stabler almost growled. "I thought that was fucking obvious by now."

"El," the woman to his left squeezed his hand and leaned into him. "Stop it. He knows. This is just...he knows we have..."

Elliot nodded and kissed her forehead. "I know, Liv," he said. He took another deep breath and as he let it out, he looked over at Hotchner. "We'll be fine."

Hotchner nodded and then slipped into an empty seat, in a row by itself, and buried himself in a stack of files and reports.

Across from Olivia and Elliot, a younger man with his nose in a book said, "He knows you can do your jobs. He has to act like he's worried about everyone else to prevent people from seeing how unsure of himself he is." He looked up, catching Elliot's eyes. "He has a son, too. Same age as the last two victims." He turned his head only slightly. "Trust me, Olivia, he wasn't making any sort of judgement about you, or how capable you are."

Olivia nodded and smiled slightly. "I know, Reid." She blinked slowly. "But thanks."

"JJ has kids, too." The gawky man said as he tilted his head. "Morgan has younger siblings and nieces and nephews. I have Godchildren. We all know how to compartmentalize, and Hotch knows it." He gave her a small, flat smile, nodded again at Elliot, and then went back to reading.

Elliot watched, stunned, as the pages turned rapidly, knowing that if it had been him, he'd still be on the first paragraph of the damn thing. "That is fucking amazing," he muttered, leaning into Olivia. "No matter how many books I watch him whizz through, it's...I mean, no one can possibly read that fast."

"Oh, it's entirely possible, Stabler," Reid said, letting out a slightly arrogant laugh as he turned another page. "I'm living proof."

"I'm convinced you're part robot," Elliot declared, shaking his head. He turned fully to Olivia, then, and lowered his voice. "I need you to keep me in check, here," he confessed with partially closed eyes and flaring nostrils. "More than usual. These...they're just little..."

"I know," she interrupted, again squeezing his hand in hers. She looked into his eyes and lifted one of her hands to smooth back over his short brown hair. Her smile widened and softened as her fingertips played at the nape of his neck, and she watched his blue eyes sparkle and shine as the opened wider and stared back at her.

He moved his right hand, letting his new phone drop into the small space between them with a plop, and trailed it upward, over her hip, her side, the very edge of the curve of her left breast, up her neck, finally resting it against her cheek. He tried not to blink as he held her gaze, seeing the warmth radiate from her smile and the pride and love glimmer in her brown eyes. The longer he looked at her, the more vibrant the memories played back in his mind. Moments he'd thought were lost and forgotten bubbled to the forefront in vivid detail, and he let them roll through him as he swiped the pad of his thumb under her eye.

"What?" she asked, barely breathing. She always got nervous when he looked at her like this. Even after so many years, it gave her butterflies and palpitations. "What's the matter?"

He shook his head and moved, kissing her once, but making it last a little too long to be considered "appropriate." When he pulled away, he took a shaky breath, let his hand fall back onto her knee, and looked at Reid. "Sorry, Doc," he said with a soft chuckle.

"No, you're not," Reid replied, not breaking eye contact with the book in his hands, but there was a smile on his face that betrayed his amusement. Doctor Spencer Reid, certified genius and Golden Child of the BAU, was constantly in a state of hyper-awareness and perpetual observation. Since Elliot joined his team, a few months after Olivia, he's had more than enough to watch and analyze. On the rare occasion he didn't have a book with him, decrypting their actions and defining their expressions was his favorite past-time. No one else in the unit had ever given him as much to work with, and to see a pair of partners with so much subtext and intense physical, emotional, and intellectual chemistry made him excited, proud, and, if he was to be perfectly honest, a tinge jealous. "Buckle up," he said, trying to hide the fact that he'd just figured out something that he wasn't even sure they knew about themselves.

Elliot cleared his throat and sat back, looping the seat belt around his lap and clicking it before shifting his weight a bit to help Olivia with hers. "These things are so fucking uncomfortable."

She laughed and cupped his face in her hands as he finished locking her into the seat. "They're adjustable," she said, kissing his lips once. "And you can unbuckle it as soon as we reach..."

"I know, I know," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm still not used to this. Remind me again why I agreed to take this job?"

Without missing a beat, Reid spoke, but he didn't lift his head from reading. "Because you're magnetically drawn to your partner, and the distance between the two of you, the length of time between cases, started to piss you off enough to merit compromising your integrity, neglecting your separate jobs rather than each other. It seemed easier to take the available opportunity as it was offered to you to not only save your relationship, but give you the chance to expand your brood, something you've been trying to do with the little time you had together, and, of course, the gift of becoming partners again, something both of you missed and longed for, though you'd never admit it out loud to anyone but each other." He continued turning pages, as though he hadn't just completely flabbergasted the couple of agents across from him.

"That was..." Elliot shook his head and licked his lips. "It was a rhetorical question." He shook his head in utter disbelief and linked his fingers with Olivia's. "I know why I'm here."

Olivia smiled and squeezed his hand a bit, and then looked across the aisle at Agents David Rossi and Derek Morgan. "How long?" she asked.

Rossi was the one to answer. "Four hours," he said, "So make yourselves comfortable." He watched with a small smirk as Derek, to his right, stuck a pair of earbuds into his ears, closed his eyes, and started nodding his head to a beat only he could hear. After a good chuckle, he turned to someone else. "Hey, Hotch?"

Hotchner looked up at his colleague, without any trace of happiness on his face. "What?"

"We went over all the details before we boarded," Rossi said, "Twice. You don't need to torture yourself over this because of your..."

"I'm not," Hotchner interrupted. "I want to make sure we aren't missing something. Anything. Seven children in four days. This unsub needs to be stopped, and the sooner we get into his head, the faster we can stop him."

"Or her," Reid said, shutting his book. He finally looked up, turning to look back at Hotchner. "Nothing we have learned so far is indicative of gender other than the amount of rage apparent in the killings. A woman could absolutely have the capacity to do this, if the stressor and criminology fit. These children are...well...children. Strength wouldn't come into question, so a woman would be physically capable."

Hotchner tightened his jaw and stiffened, sitting up a bit straighter. "I don't see a woman, regardless of any questionable constitution, being able to do this. Not...not to children."

"Like I said," Reid said with a pointed look at his supervisor, "It depends on the stressor." He turned his head, catching the impressed expression on Elliot's face. "Go ahead. Say it."

"What planet are you from?" Elliot asked, shaking his head again.

Olivia laughed, wrapping her arm around his. She settled against him and dropped her head to his shoulder, training her eyes to look out the plane's window. She took a breath and let it out slowly, wondering how Reid could possibly think a woman could torture, dismember, and kill such young children. Her mind drifted to the kids she and Elliot left back home, her frown twisting into a loving smile. She let her eyes close, and as she felt Elliot's lips press to her head, she sighed.

"You okay?" he whispered.

She nodded. "I miss the kids," she said, looking up at him. "We usually get a few days between, and this time, I just..."

"I know," he said, cutting her off. "Me, too." He kissed her again and let his head drop to hers. "We'll be home, soon." He blinked. "I know what you're thinking, and, baby don't."

She bit her bottom lip and lowered her gaze a bit. "We see more of this, now, than we did back in New York, at SVU. Only it's...so much..."

"Worse." He nodded, agreeing, and shoved his hand between them to grab his phone. "You want me to call the kids? I know that look, you need to talk to them, huh?"

She nodded and watched as he dialed. It would be a few days until they saw those kids again, and God help her, when they did, she and Elliot would promise them, as they did every day of their lives, that nothing would ever happen to them. "I love you," she whispered to Elliot.

He smiled, bringing the phone up to his ear. He bent his head and said, "I love you, too, baby. We're gonna nail this son of a bitch, you know we are."

She nodded and curled around him a bit tighter. No matter how quickly they closed this case, it was going to take too damn long.

 _ **Reviews are welcome.**_

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

 **The BAU Jet, somewhere over Ohio**

"You okay?" JJ whispered, nudging Reid. "Spence?" He popped his head up from another book, his third since they took off from Texas. She looked at him for a moment and smiled. "What? You have that look on your face."

He smiled back at her and gave his head a small jerk to get the hair out of his eyes. "What's up with Hotch?"

JJ rolled her eyes. "He got a phone call, before we left the hotel this morning." She was silent for a moment. "It was, um...Emily."

Reid blinked, shook the hair out of his eyes again, and tried to appear calm, though the tension in his lips gave away the anxiety over hearing her name. "Really?" he asked, a but tersely. "She can't pick up the phone to call you, or me, or Garcia, but she can..."

"She asked him for her job back," JJ interrupted, her voice softer now. "Spence, he had to tell her there was no room for her here, now. He got...he yelled at her, and said he couldn't trust someone who walked on the team twice." She gave Reid a knowing look. "I think he really meant..."

"She walked out on him," Reid finished, nodding. He looked down at the hardcover in his lap, and he absentmindedly began peeling at the dust jacket. "Is that all she said? Did she ask him...about any of us?"

"I don't know," JJ said, rubbing a comforting hand over his shoulder. "He didn't tell me that much." She looked over toward Olivia and Elliot, who were curled together under a blanket, asleep. "They look comfortable," she said with a single, soft laugh.

Reid nodded, lifting his head up again and looking at JJ. "I think they fit. And I don't think it's fair to ask one of them to leave for her."

"Who? Emily?" JJ asked, her blue eyes narrowing as she pulled lightly on her blonde ponytail. "Hotch isn't even considering that, so, please, don't worry about it."

With a bitter laugh, Reid said, "No, we all miss her, but...she made a choice. She came back after...after we all thought she was...I went to her funeral, and then there she was, alive and well. This time...she just left of her own volition and we can't keep letting her yo-yo..."

"She's not," Rossi's voice broke in with severity. "Trust me. Now, uh, I hate to ask, but will you wake up Sleeping Beauty and the Beast over there? We're gonna be landing in about an hour and we need to regroup." He turned and gave Derek Morgan a hard slap in the arm, rousing him.

"Huh? Wha?" Morgan mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Rossi shot him an annoyed look. "You talk in your sleep, did you know that?" He narrowed his eyes. "I am not your 'baby-girl,' and I have never, nor do I plan to ever 'take a bite out of your chocolate brownie,' as you put it."

Morgan laughed and gave Rossi an embarrassed grin. "Well, obviously, I wasn't dreaming about you, Rossi." He straightened up as he took the files being handed to him by JJ. "Thanks," he said with a nod.

Rossi nodded at Hotchner, and then said, "Let's start with victimology. Stabler, you're the newest leaf on the tree, so you have kickoff. Tell me, what do you see?"

Elliot, his folder open on his lap, yawned and rolled his neck, and said, groggily, "The youngest was...God, four." He struggled to keep the disgust and anger at bay, knowing his job, now, would require more control and less emotion. "The oldest is twelve." He went silent and his face contorted in thought. "He likes them young." He flipped through the pages and read, scanning for information. "They're all from the same geographical area, but not the same school...not even the same county. But, uh, Route Ninety runs through each of their hometowns, so we're looking for someone local, a guy who knows that highway." He licked his lips as he thumbed through more pages. "Four boys and three girls, so no gender preference, different hair colors, varying eye color, and they're a mix of races and religions. This bastard isn't picky."

"What does that tell you?" Rossi asked, eager to see Elliot's years of experience in the NYPD blossom into natural profiling skill.

Elliot took another deep breath, raising his hand to Olivia when he saw her mouth open slightly. "Gimme a sec," he said, brow furrowed. "Crimes of opportunity. Nothing mattered except these babies were available and alone. Wrong place...really, really wrong time."

"Nice work," Rossi said, giving Elliot a nod and as close to a smile as he could muster under the circumstances. "What about criminology?" he asked, directing the question toward Olivia. "You take it, Benson."

Olivia's eyes widened for a moment as her lips twisted into a scowl. "Good morning to you, too, Dave," she teased, running a finger along the edge of a page in the file she was reading. "All of them...oh, God, all of the bodies were mutilated, in different ways, but with clear sexual overtones. I mean, obviously..." she cleared her throat. "That could be the primary motivation, maybe the un-sub is sadistic, he gets his own sexual satisfaction from causing his victims' suffering. Or, since these children are...were...prepubescent, the un-sub could be, in his mind, destroying the temptation and physical ability to give or experience sexual pleasure at all." She paused. "The one thing they all have in common is the multiple stab wounds to the face and neck. There is a lot of rage in whoever is doing this."

"The sexual mutilation," Reid said, shaking a finger in Olivia's direction. "You were right, on both accounts. The un-sub is driven, either sadistically for himself, or herself, or feels that human sexual nature must be annihilated, so the victims are all abducted at a pre-sexual age. The un-sub may have been a victim of sexual abuse, may have grown up in a household where sex was deemed absolutely venial. There have been cases where devoutly abstinent upbringing is the primary cause of deviancy. William MacDonald, for example. His parents caught him masturbating at thirteen and poured acid on his hands and genitalia in an effort to purify him. He grew up believing sexual pleasure was the work of the devil, and when he was seventeen, he was raped by a schoolmate. He felt unclean, as a result, and sought revenge by mutilating and killing five homosexual men after luring them into bed with him. After he murdered them, he'd wash his hands and his penis with heavily diluted acid."

"Thanks for that," Elliot said, nodding once, as he grimaced and shifted in his seat and tugged on his pants.

A round of light laughter filled the plane's air, but one man was not laughing at all. "Stabler said something about Route Ninety," Hotchner said, pages strewn on his lap. "A truck driver, maybe, or delivery person, someone who has to travel that highway. It would be easy to stop along the road. The un-sub abducted the child, and after he was finished he would drive out, dump the body, clean up at a truck stop, and be miles away before the body was ever found. Coming and going so often, so quickly, practically ensures no way to be connected to the murders, and the blood lust..."

"Am I the only one who thinks it's possible that our un-sub is a woman?" Reid interrupted. "You've all been referring to a 'he' and a 'him,' but there is nothing that points solely to a male..."

"It's the rape," Olivia said, interrupting him. She poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, trying to decide if she was still working Special Victims after all. "We won't know until we get there, and look at autopsy reports, if there were any hairs or DNA left on the vics, but most of them...were raped. Some with foreign objects, which, from working cases like this for over a decade, tells me that it's a man who either can't get it up or likes to take care of himself and his vic at the same time." She closed her eyes tightly and swallowed hard. "So, no, Reid, I don't think a woman did this, not unless...unless she is one helluva fucking psycho."

All eyes were on her, but Elliot's soft blue gaze was the one that mattered. He saw her looking back at him and smiled, and then rested a hand on her knee. He rubbed gently, calming her, and then looked over at Hotchner. "Anger-retaliatory, or anger-excitation, right? Those are our options, here?"

Hotchner screwed up his face, frowning. "How did you..."

"I picked up a few things from Encyclopedia Brown, over here," Elliot interrupted, jutting a thumb at Reid. "And I learned a lot from Olivia. The perp..." he stopped, knowing that he still had a few habits to break. "The un-sub is either using his victims as a surrogate, the real target of his rage and pain is unavailable, or he's truly getting sexual gratification from this and it drives him, forces him to continue on to feel it all again. Am I right?"

Rossi let his lips curl into a proud smile. "Yeah," he said, "giving you this job...best damn decision I ever made." He looked at Morgan. "Get Garcia on the phone, tell her we need a list of all of the companies that have delivery or service routes along Route Ninety with local interest in Utica."

"On it," Morgan said, whipping out his cell phone.

Reid smiled as he turned his attention to Elliot. "That was impressive," he said, nodding and pulling his messenger bag into his lap.

"Coming from you, that...that means a lot," Elliot returned. "Since I've been here, I get the feeling I'm not as, uh, welcome as Liv was when she took the job. Some people...well, I think they'd just as soon see me go back to Queens."

JJ shook her head and leaned over to him. "You've both been great," she said. "If you're talking about how Hotch has been acting lately, he...he doesn't warm up to people right away. The last time he did," her voice fell away and she dropped her head before raising her eyes. "It didn't work out so well for him."

"How so?" Elliot said, his eyes narrowing.

JJ took another deep breath. "Two years ago, we lost a friend, a mentor. He was someone Hotch was very close to, and soon after his death, another member of this family left us. There was history there and we all thought...well, he took it hard. Since then, he's treated us all..." she stopped, not wanting to say it out loud. "He distances himself. He thinks it's his fault the people around him get hurt, and he just doesn't want that to happen anymore."

Elliot blinked. "Understandable," he said, nodding at her.

"He's happy that you're here. We all are." JJ smiled, and then shot a sideways glance at Olivia. "Both of you."

"Thanks, I kind of needed to hear that," Elliot said with a small laugh. "Oh, and, uh, Doc?"

Reid looked at him, taking a bit of pride in the nickname Elliot had lovingly given him. "Yes?"

Elliot raised one eyebrow and flattened his smile. "When we land, I have to ask you something." He let out a snort and kissed his wife's forehead.

Reid smiled and nodded. "Sure," he said, and then his smile faded. He had a feeling that the stasis the team had found would soon be shaken, and he was afraid one of them would end up falling through the cracks.

 _ **Reviews are welcome.**_

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

 **The Utica Police Department,** **Homicide Unit, Utica, New York**

"Agent Hotchner," a man in a light grey suit held out his hand, grinning. "Captain Jake Trembly, thanks for coming."

Elliot furrowed his brow and shook his head, "No, I'm, uh, Agent Stabler." He shook the man's hand but looked over at Olivia. "That sounds so fucking weird."

"Oh," Trembly said, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, the woman I spoke with told me to look for a tall man with dark hair, blue eyes, and a serious...well, I just assumed that..."

"I'm Aaron Hotchner," interrupted Hotchner, holding out his own hand and introducing himself. "Supervisory Special Agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit." He gestured to his team, one at a time, as he said their names. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

Trembly nodded, gesturing to a door behind him. "Right this way," he said. As he led the group toward the door, he said, "Forgive the close quarters. It's a small town, and we just aren't used to having this sort of trouble." He twisted a brass knob, opening the door inward, and then moved aside to allow the BAU to go in first and settle in around a long table. He cleared his throat and looked around. "Which one of you is Jennifer, again?" He smiled expectantly, and hopefully, at Olivia.

Olivia smiled back but said, "No, uh, sorry." She pointed across the table at JJ, who waved awkwardly at the man.

Trembly scratched his head and chuckled again. "I'm sorry," he said, shrugging. "Now, uh, when I spoke to Jennifer..."

"Agent Jereau," JJ said, crossing her arms.

"Right," Trembly said softly, "I only knew about seven victims. These calls came in this morning, from, a few from other cities." he said tossing a stack of files onto the table. He scratched at the side of his face and rubbed across his chin. "We don't have the resources for this, at all, but we seem to be sitting in the middle of it. Six of these children were local, that gives us majority rule, here, unfortunately. So, again, thanks for coming."

Hotchner nodded at him. "This is absolutely where we need to be right now, no thanks necessary." He looked around at his team, who had each grabbed a file. "Is there a coffee pot somewhere? We could use..."

"Say no more," Trembly interrupted, and with an unsure smile, he left the room.

Once he was gone, the team fell into a relaxed and seemingly rehearsed routine. Reading and passing folders, commenting and making observations. Reid remarked on the psychological problems someone who could do this must have. Elliot commented that he was grateful he hadn't eaten anything yet.

It was Rossi, though, who spoke louder and more sternly than anyone else. "This is worse than we thought. We need to interview locals, witnesses, the parents...and Morgan, call Garcia, see where she is on that list of trucking and utility companies."

Morgan pulled out his phone, dialing fast, and he couldn't help the smirk from forming when Garcia picked up the phone. He laughed at her greeting. "You're lucky you weren't on speaker this time," he said, leaning back, oblivious to the people around him snickering and rolling their eyes. "You got that list of...oh, you were, huh? Well, we are just cosmically connected."

Hotchner, not in the mood for games, shot Morgan a hard look. "Tell her we need her to narrow it down."

Morgan sneered at Hotchner. "Hold on, beautiful," he said, and then he hit a button and put his phone flat on the table. "Behave," he warned Garcia, "You're on speaker now."

"Oh, boo," Garcia said dryly. "Just as it was getting hot and heavy. We will save that for later, Romeo." The humor in her voice was laced with a serious promise. "What do you need from me, boss man?"

Hotchner raised his voice as he flipped through files. "We need to know which of those companies had stops in the same cities on the same days as the abductions."

"All right," Garcia said, cracking her knuckles and sitting up straight, the pops and rustling of papers could be heard through the phone. "Accessing travel logs now, so hit me if ya got em."

"I'll give you the four latest, starting with the most recent," Hotchner said, turning a page in one of the files. "Utica yesterday, between ten and eleven AM, Syracuse on March ninth, 2 PM. Utica again on March seventh, eight AM. Albany on March fifth, three PM. Then back to Utica on March second, noon."

The clicking of computer keys, along with Garcia's humming and mumbling, filtered through the room. "Sir, there are three companies with stops in that specific pattern. An Eco-power company called GreenLight, clever, huh? Also, a local produce and meat delivery service and a heating and cooling repair." She made an odd noise and said, "If you want to send me anything else, I could..."

"No, the three is fine," Hotchner said, closing the files. "Once we talk to the families and the medical examiners we'll be able to pin-point, but we need you to get on the security and traffic cameras, see if you can get footage of any of these kidnappings."

"Your wish is my command," Garcia said.

Morgan chuckled and said, "That was meant for me, right?" He picked up his phone and said, "Later, baby-girl."

"I'll be waiting, Master," Garcia quipped. "Genie, out."

The line went dead, telling the group Garcia had hung up, and the team shot questioning looks at each other.

"Right," Hotchner said, deciding on assignments in his head before filing them out. "Benson, Stabler..." He said, pointing at each one of them, "You two head out to pick up the autopsy reports for the victims. It'll be a lot of driving. Three county coroners and one state ME, but we need them all."

"On it," Elliot said, standing. He pulled Olivia's chair out for her, and when she stepped beside him, he whispered, "How come we always get sent out before they bring the coffee?"

Olivia laughed and slapped him in the chest lightly and playfully. "I'll buy you coffee. Come on."

Elliot grinned as he followed her out of the room. His eyes shot right to her ass and he licked his lips, hoping wherever they ended up staying tonight would have insulated walls. He ran a bit to catch up with her, slowing to her pace when he did. "This, uh, this feels a little familiar, doesn't it?"

"You and me? It should," she said with a wink.

"No, baby, this case," he said, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip. He clicked a button on the key to one of the black SUV's the unit had rented, and he rested his hand on the door handle for a moment. "I feel like we've...I mean, this feels really..."

"That guy," she said, opening her door and getting in. "The stalker. White. It wasn't children, but it was...just as creepy. Same, uh, same pattern."

Elliot got into the car and slammed the door, buckled his seat belt, and jammed the key into the ignition, turning it over. "That bastard," he said, his jaw tight. "I swear, if he would've hurt you, or even tried to..."

"I know," she said, stopping him. She reached out a hand, dropping it to his knee, and she rubbed up and down his thigh. "Drive," she told him.

With a nod, he pulled the car away from the curb, hoping that this case would be less personal that the ones in his past. He flinched as he heard his own thoughts. This was going to get personal, fast, and there was nothing he would be able to do to stop it.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

 **The Utica Police Department,** **Homicide Unit, Utica, New York**

"Where is everyone?" Elliot asked, walking back into the borrowed conference room with Olivia by his side. He dropped a stack of photocopied documents and files onto the table and walked over to the cardboard box filled with coffee. He poured two cups, fixed them identically, and stuck his middle finger through the hole of a doughnut. He walked back over to Olivia and handed her one of the foam cups.

She took it with a nod, then bent at her knees, tilted her head, and took a bite of his dangling doughnut. She chuckled at the bemused expression on his face as she chewed.

"Couldn't just get your own?" he teased, wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. He winked at her.

She licked her lips and swallowed, and then said, "It's more fun stealing yours." She winked back at him and then turned to Reid. "So why are you the only one in here?"

Reid, looking up from a book, smiled at them. "Hotch got a phone call, he left to deal with whoever it was. JJ is upstairs with a few of the local chiefs, going over case details, Morgan and Rossi went to talk to the most recent victim's mother, and I'm...waiting."

Elliot nodded and sat in one of the empty chairs, chewing on a bit of doughnut, and when he swallowed, he took a sip of his coffee. "Okay," he said. "Waiting for what?" He looked up at Olivia and darted his eyes downward, asking her to sit by him.

Reid noticed, and he watched Olivia sit as he said, "You, I suppose." He closed his book, set it on the table, and reached for a few of the files. "Did you look through these at all?"

Olivia shook her head. "We talked to all of the medical examiners, though, and, uh, we're pretty sure the same person killed all of these kids."

Reid made a soft grunting noise. "There are minor individual idiosyncrasies. How can you be...oh. There was DNA? We weren't told about that."

"Yeah," Elliot said softly, closing his eyes and swallowing the bile rising from his stomach. "He left behind DNA."

Olivia, under the table, ran her hand up and down his thigh, calming him. She knew the cases involving kids were always the hardest on him, but they destroyed her, too. She squeezed his knee, garnering his attention, and she offered a small smile.

He returned her warm gaze, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, the doors opened behind him and the missing members of the team walked into the room. He turned to look at them over his shoulder, watching as they poured coffee and took seats.

"Where's JJ?" Reid asked, noticing the only one still missing.

Morgan plopped into the seat right in front of the box of doughnuts and grabbed one, taking a huge bite before saying, with his mouth full, "Still with the locals."

"Morgan," Rossi said, sipping from his cup, "When you swallow that, get Garcia on the phone, see where she is with those traffic and security cameras."

"On it," Morgan said, wiping his one sugary hand on his jeans as he called Garcia with the other.

Hotchner looked up, then, and eyed Rossi for a moment, and then looked toward Elliot, glaring.

"What?" Elliot scoffed. "What'd I do?"

"Nothing," Hotchner said, shaking his head and reaching for one of the folders Reid was trying to hand to him. "It's not you. I had a meeting with someone that...it didn't go well." He flipped open the file and started to scan the pictures and printouts. "We establish clear criminology?"

Reid flicked his shaggy hair out of his eyes as he said, "He is obviously very frustrated, and deeply angry at someone or something. Post-mortem wounds are evident and abundant in every case, and we're talking major overkill." He looked around. "We are looking for someone who was abused as a child or had his own children taken from him."

"He," Olivia said, switching files with Elliot. "Finally gave up on your theory that it could be a woman?"

Reid looked at her, tilted his head, and said, "The DNA was male. Besides, you were right. This involves too much rage and too much physical violence. A female un-sub would go about it differently and with a more strategic method. Our guy kills with whatever instruments are handy at the time. They're kills of opportunity and convenience rather than anything with organized methodology." He turned to look at Hotchner. "A woman wouldn't be so quick to change the way she works, and she wouldn't be as...messy."

Elliot grinned. "And the DNA," he said with a single nod. "We found out while you were all gone. Male DNA was found on and inside of all but two of the vics." He slid files toward Rossi, Morgan, and Hotchner. "No hits in any system, and nothing distinguishing."

"Wait," Olivia said suddenly, sitting up straighter and narrowing her eyes. "Traces of vinegar and isopropyl alcohol were found in the wounds of every single victim."

Morgan, holding his phone to his ear, looked at her inquisitively. "What? What the hell does that mean?"

Olivia looked at Reid, who held out and a hand and smiled at her, telling her to go ahead and say it. She chuckled at him but then looked at Morgan. "It means our un-sub could probably have chronic ear infections. That's a home remedy for dissolving ear wax." She thought for a moment. "Or he cleans a lot of glass windows or surfaces. That mix de-greases and doesn't leave behind any streaks."

Rossi grinned at her. "How do you know all of that?"

She laughed. "Six kids in one house? You tend to figure that sort of thing out, when it's needed in a pinch."

Elliot looked at her. "You know, I don't think Liz has had an earache at all since you used that on her."

"See?" she said with a shrug. "It works."

Morgan hung up his call at that moment and said, "She's sending us all some footage from one of the cameras, says it's something we really need to see." He looked at Olivia. "And, uh, solar panels are made of glass, aren't they?"

Elliot looked at him, then looked at Olivia. "GreenLight," he said, referring to one of the companies which had a service route on the same trail as their un-sub. He looked toward Rossi. "That's gotta be the one."

"We'll know for sure when we see what Garcia wants us to..." A chorus of bleeps and beeps interrupted him. He pulled his own phone out of his pocket. "Speak of the devil," he said, sliding down the notification screen and tapping on the video message Garcia had sent.

The others did the same, and the silence in the room was intense as they all glues their eyes to the phone and watched the short clip from a red-light camera.

"Oh, my God," Olivia whispered, her hand cupping her mouth.

It was Elliot's turn to offer a comforting touch. His hand smoothed up her thigh and squeezed as he, too, watched the painful images flash and burn into his memory. He noticed the van, the GreenLight logo on the side, and the way the boy's body began to twist and bend and mangle as he was thrown into the back of the vehicle. "Come on, you son-of-a-bitch, look up."

"Damn it," Morgan spat as the clip ended, and he threw his phone onto the table. "Well at least we know where to start." He looked at Reid. "You think we're ready to deliver the profile? Are we missing anything?"

Hotchner blinked. "We have the profile, but I know Reid and JJ can handle that. We...we might need help on this." He waved his phone in the air slightly. "According to the information Garcia sent, GreenLight is an international company. There could be more victims we aren't aware of, if the un-sub took any work-related trips out of the states. I need to make a phone call, excuse me."

The others watched as he got out of his seat and walked out of the room again, bringing his phone to his ear and mumbling softly. They passed around awkward looks and waited for someone to say something.

Reid spoke.

One word.

"Emily."

 _ **Peace and love,**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

The Utica Police Department, Homicide Unit, Utica, New York

"Why?" Hotchner's voice was cool, low as he spoke.

"Why...what?" A tall, thin brunette flicked bangs out of her eyes with one finger, her other arm draped across her waist.

He looked up at her, glaring, his dark and tired eyes narrow and angry. "You know what."

The woman exhaled and rolled her eyes, licking her lips at the same time. "We'd never have worked, Hotch."

"I've got two agents in the next room, married, to each other, with children," Hotchner said, his tone even but his jaw tightening. "They relocated, uprooted their children, had another one. She worked through eight and a half months, took the standard six month leave, and...my point, they make it work. They have a normal life." He took a step toward her.

"For now," the woman spat back. She tilted her head. "JJ? What happened to her marriage?" She didn't give Hotchner time to answer. "How many times has Rossi been married? And divorced? How on-again-off-again are Morgan and Garcia because the job..."

"They make it work!" Hotchner interrupted, almost yelling. "They make it work because they want it to work. Because they need it to work. They need each other. We could have..." he stopped, cleared his throat, threw up his hands and shook his head. "I brought in on this because it's crossing boarders. Take a look at the files, let me know if you've come across anything similar...anywhere else." He turned his back on her and headed for the conference room door, stopping short of walking through it. "I wish I could say it was good to see you, Agent Prentiss."

Emily Prentiss watched him leave, closed her eyes for a moment to regain composure, and then picked up the stack of files he left for her. She was a few lines in on the first report, when soft footfalls hit her ears. She smiled, but kept reading. "Just tell me how much of that you heard," she said, not looking up.

"Oh just...everything after, 'Hey, Hotch, what've you got." Olivia slid a cup of coffee across the table toward her. "Figured you could use that," she said, pointing to the foam cup as she sat on the edge of the table and dropped her hands into her lap.

"Thanks," Prentiss said, bringing the coffee to her lips. She kept reading but said, "I'm guessing he doesn't know I've worked with you and Stabler before."

"He knows we had a few Interpol cases," Olivia said, "But, no, he doesn't know you were our contact." She bit her lip for a moment. "I can keep it that way, if you want.

"Doesn't matter," Prentiss said dejectedly as she finally sat in one of the chairs surrounding the table. "He couldn't hate me any more than he does, so..." she raised both brows and gave Olivia a sad smile. "You had a baby?"

"You sound almost as surprised as our friend John," Olivia laughed. "We'd been trying...for a while. Nothing...nothing," she waved a hand and looked upward. "And then we get this case in New York, in his old unit. He's the reason we closed it. Dave offered him a job, he took it, and the night he officially became a member of the BAU...I took a test and, well, nine months later there was another Stabler in the world."

"Good," Prentiss chuckled. "The world could use more people like him. And you." She flipped a page and asked, "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," Olivia said, grinning broadly. "A beautiful...beautiful little boy." She choked on her words, holding back tears. The pain of being away from her son almost as great as the incredible joy of being his mother.

Prentiss looked up at her then. "What's his name?"

"Well," Olivia began with a short laugh, "After vetoing Axel, Kal-El, Anakin, and Albus Severus...that one was Liz's suggestion...we named him Evan. Evan James Stabler."

Prentiss smiled again, only it was smaller, sadder. "Bless," she said with a nod, and then bowed her head again and kept reading. The room went silent, cold, until more footsteps and chattering voices began to fill it. Olivia scooted off the table and sat in the seat beside Emily, saving everyone the anticipation of who else would.

Elliot strutted over and sat next to her, Reid beside him, and Hotch returning to his place at the end. "Morgan and JJ are hunting down the truck with the company, hoping to get a list of drivers." He took a breath and acknowledged the elephant in the room. "You all know Emily Prentiss," he looked at Elliot and Olivia. "Oh, um, Elliot and Olivia, I'd like you to meet..."

"We've met," Elliot said, quick and sharp, offering no other details. "Why did you call us all in here?"

"We got another victim," Hotchner said, emotionless. "Eight-year old Devon Spicer, found in a dumpster behind a truck-stop weighing station. His feet were severed at the ankles, and CSU...hasn't found them yet."

"To keep him from running away," Elliot said through tightly clenched teeth. "Sick mother-fucker."

"Easy," Olivia whispered to him, her eyes catching his. It brought back memories of calming each other down, working each other up, using each other for consolation and escape. One moment in particular crossed her mind, she walked in on him taking his anger and aggression out on a pale blue, metal locker. Later that same night, he took it out on her, in the best way possible. She smiled at the thought, but then blinked herself back to the present. "What else have we got on him?"

Hotchner flipped a page of a small notebook. "Fluids present, same DNA. How could an un-sub this active and careless not be in any system at all?"

"I can answer that for you," a distant sounding voice spoke.

"Garcia?" Prentiss questioned, sitting up a bit straighter.

Garcia chirped back an inquisitive, "Emily?"

"The case, please, Garcia?" Hotchner interrupted, stomping on any pleasantries that may have arisen. He looked up and nodded at Reid, who laid his cell phone down on the table.

From the phone's speaker, Garcia's voice rang again. "I had every search engine, program, and code running for hours, and I finally got a hit. Our baddie was a victim once, gave the hospital a fake name, though. A seven year old Sky Walker was admitted to Saint Luke's with several severe fractures, lacerations, and according to the report, he was...God bless him...um, violated. He was...so incredibly and brutally violated." She paused to breathe and clear her throat. "With a fake name, a fake address, and someone else claiming to be his mother verifying it all, he was treated, kept for three days, and when the doctor wanted to speak to the mother about insurance, he found the room completely empty, no trace of either of them."

"The abused became the abuser," Rossi said, shaking his head. "We need to brainstorm, here. What type of stresser would ignite dormant feelings of revenge for abuse that he suffered so many years ago?"

"We've seen this before," Elliot spoke. "It could be from a therapy session bringing up the repressed memory, or maybe his abuser resurfaced, came back into his life or...or walked out of it." He narrowed his eyes. "What name did the, uh, I'm assuming the fake mom use?"

Garcia was heard clicking and humming and finally said, "Oh, um, she told them her name was Ruth Walker."

Hotchner eyed Elliot. "How is that going to..."

"Women are less likely to provide an alias that veers too much from their given names," Reid interrupted. "Females struggle with gender and identity in so many ways on a daily basis that they're more apt to assume false last names and keep their first or middle in tact to prevent themselves from feeling too lost or damaged."

"Walker is obviously made up, so we need to focus on anyone in the investigation named Ruth," Rossi said. "Garcia, have you heard from JJ or Morgan yet?"

"JJ just sent me a text," Garcia said, a slight laugh in her voice. "The Great Rossini, can you predict how many children I'm gonna have?"

Rossi laughed and ignored the question. "What did she tell you?"

"It's a list of names. The drivers who had routes along the un-sub's path of destruction."

Hotchner looked at Rossi, and knowing what he was thinking, he said, "Run all of them, let us know if any of them are connected to a woman named Ruth. As fast as you can." He took a slow breath and let it out heavily. "It's not the best lead, but it's the only one we've got."

"I'll call you as soon as I get something," Garcia said, her tapping keyboard filtering through the phone and filling the room. "Rossi will let you know when your phones are gonna ring."

A chorus of soft chuckles sang out from the table, but it faded fast. "I'm going to go out into the pen and wait for JJ and Morgan," Reid said, closing his book, picking up his phone, and passing a smile and nod around, at everyone except Prentiss.

Rossi stood up, then, too. "Coffee anyone?" he asked. "I'll stop on the way back from the coroner's office. I need to get whatever they've got on our latest victim."

"Yes," Elliot said, his eyes widening.

Olivia looked up at Rossi. "Make mine a double."

Emily smiled. "On the rocks, please?"

Rossi laughed and grinned at his team. "You got it. Hotch?"

"No, thank you," Hotchner said. "Benson, Stabler, when JJ and Morgan get back, gather everyone in the squad room and deliver the updated profile. We don't need a name to tell them who we're looking for." He watched them both stand and leave the room with Rossi. His eyes and sour face turned across, then, to Prentiss. "Anything ringing any bells?"

Prentiss licked her lips, got out of her seat, and walked slowly over to Hotchner. "Yeah," she said, sitting on the table barely a foot away from him. She crossed her arms. "A case a while back, we lost it when he went quiet. Same MO, same victimology. Six victims, all children, all sexually assaulted, and all mutilated post-mortem. Three in Canada, three in Alaska, and then he was gone. Off the grid."

"Because he was traveling back to the states," Hotchner assumed. "And now he's here. He's back."

Prentiss looked at him for a long moment. "So am I, Hotch," she said, almost a whisper.

"Only until we catch the un-sub," Hotchner said, and he stood. "You made your choice. You have to live with that." He clenched his jaw. "We both do."

Emily watched him leave the room, her arms unfolded and dropped to her sides as her face fell. She knew this team, and she knew Benson and Stabler. With them all working hard and smart, this case would be closed by morning. She didn't have much time, but she was going to change his mind. Somehow.

 ** _Peace and love,_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

 **GreenLight EconoLine Power and Cable Northeast Division Dispatch Office, Utica, New York**

"How long is this guy going to keep us waiting?" Elliot asked, looking at Olivia and slipping his phone into his pocket. He looked around the lavish waiting room and scoffed. "This is too nice for a trucking company, it's making me uncomfortable."

She smirked at him as she brought a foam cup to her lips, blowing on the hot coffee before she sipped. "Relax," she said to him. "Gave us time to call the kids, and this is the best coffee I've had in days."

He laughed, but then rolled his eyes. "Did you…" he paused, shifted in his seat, and leaned closer to his wife, "Did you have to bite me so fucking hard last night?" He chuckled, rubbing the side of neck, just above his shoulder, where a throbbing ache had plagued him since he woke up.

Her eyes narrowed, her smirk widened, and she took another sip of her coffee. "I couldn't help it! I don't know what got into you, last night. Uh, you were doing your job, incredibly well, pal, and Hotch was in the next room. It was either bite or scream, which would have made Hotch run in with his gun drawn…"

He stopped her with a soft, quick kiss. "Honey, he would have known exactly why you were screaming." He winked at her, and then took her coffee, took a sip, and licked his lips. "That is really good."

"See?" she nudged him in the side and said, "Waiting isn't so bad."

They shared a laugh, but their heads turned sharply at the sound of a loud voice. A balding man in a pal green polo shirt and khakis held out his hand. "Frank Klipper, I'm the manager here. I was told the cops needed my help?"

Olivia and Elliot stood up, each shook his hand and introduced themselves, offering views of their credentials. "We're not cops," Elliot said. "Is there somewhere more, uh, private we could talk?"

The man nodded, curious, and led them back toward the doors he'd just come through. "We can use my office." He turned to look over his shoulder. "What's this about? The FBI? All of our green and organic certificates are valid, we're a legit eco…"

"Nothing about your company," Olivia said, following the man through an open oak door. She sat, when he invited her to, in a cushioned leather chair. Elliot sat in the one next to her and said, "Sir, we need to see the all of the driving and service logs, GPS logging information, and any toll records for one of your drivers." He pulled a small notebook out of his pocket, flipped a few pages, and read the name to Klipper. "Owen McCallum," he said, and then he looked up at Klipper, who had gone pale.

Klipper smoothed a hand over his shiny head, wiping away sweat. "Uh, why do you…I mean, what does the FBI want with…"

Olivia held up a hand. "We can't get into details, but we would really appreciate your cooperation." She eyed him. "It would look pretty horrible for you if you didn't."

Klipper walked over to his desk, leaning rather than sitting, and began typing quickly into the computer. "When…I mean, uh, is there a specific day you…"

"Everything you got," Elliot interrupted. "From his first day on the job, till now, please."

Klipper stiffened and stood up straight, looking at them with irritation in his eyes. "That's over eight years of records."

"And the government thanks you for taking the time to locate, print, and hand over every single page," Olivia said, smiling politely at him.

Elliot smirked at her, and fell a little more in love with her. He looked back at Klipper. "We'll wait."

 **The Utica Police Department, Homicide Unit, Utica, New York**

"You know," Prentiss began, brushing he hair out of her eyes and leaning back in her chair, "You can't ignore me the entire time we're…"

"Watch me," Hotchner spat, not looking at her. He flipped through the file in his hands, pondering a potential connection between victims, and he sighed. "Stop staring at me."

"Benson told me all about Evan," Prentiss said, and she smirked when she saw Hotchner's nostrils flare. "She showed me pictures. He's adorable. He has a full head of curly brown hair and the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen." Chuckling, she said, "She told me he's brilliant, he's already identifying colors, shapes, animals, and she swears he speaks in full sentences."

"He's their son," Hotchner said, nodding. "Not to mention, of course, he spends a lot of time with Spencer."

Prentiss chuckled, but her smile faded when she saw no amusement at all on his face. She licked her lips and then said, "You know, they're, uh, already trying to have another one."

He whipped his head toward her, glaring at her. "What? Evan isn't even a year old, yet."

Prentiss nodded as she twirled the plastic stirrer around in her coffee cup. "They've got older kids, one is already in college, they're not ready to have an empty nest just yet," she said with a chuckle. "I think…I see it now. What you were saying." She sighed, put her cup down, and scooted her chair closer to Hotchner. "About them needing each other."

He raised an eyebrow at her, but his scowl was fixed. "Yeah," he scoffed.

"They have the minds to admit that," she said almost sadly. "They do, physically and emotionally, need each other. Whatever happened between them, the relationship they have, it made them dependent on each other. They're happy about that." She leaned over to him and lowered her voice. "Things that happened to me," she paused, looked away from him, and licked her lips, "They made me pretty damn determined never to need anyone else. I depend on myself, because I learned the hard way that people just don't stick around. Not like that. Not for me."

"I would have," he answered, immediately, certainly. He finally looked at her more intently, but he still didn't offer a smile. "Elliot told me it took a lot of convincing to get Olivia where he wanted her, that she had that same pessimistic outlook, but she took the chance and let someone else in, and now they're…"

"I'm not Olivia Benson," she interrupted. "I'm sorry." She blinked and she saw him turn away from her. "Are you really upset because you have feelings for me, or are you just bitter that you're losing the chance to feel something other than guilt?"

His eyes narrowed then. "You think I'm only trying to find a way to deal with Haley's death? You think I would use you to do that?" He shook his head and dropped his gaze back to the file he'd been reading. "You don't trust anyone, do you?"

Prentiss sighed and sat back in her chair. "Like I said, I don't make personal connections easily."

"So what we had, that wasn't a personal connection?" He looked up at her again. "Or are you just too afraid to admit that's exactly what it was?"

She opened her mouth but was saved from answering by the small train of people walking into the room.

Elliot held up a thick stack of printed papers before tossing it onto the table, causing a loud thud. "We got him," he said.

Olivia laughed. "Garcia got him," she corrected. "His name is Owen McCallum, mother's name is Ruth. His father, Colin, was an extremely abusive man, to both him and his mother. They have medical records and insurance claims that would make your eyes pop."

Elliot shoved his hands into his pockets. "Six years ago, he beat Ruth so badly, she fell into a coma." He closed his eyes and swallowed, and then spoke again. "She never woke up. After she died, Owen took the brunt of his father's abuse, twice over."

"Owen took the job with GreenLight after high-school, simply because it would take him away from his father," Olivia said, and then she took a deep breath. "It did, for a while, but then…" She looked at Rossi, then at Hotchner. "He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer six months ago," she said, her eyes darting to Prentiss.

Prentiss stiffened. "That's when we picked up the case in Canada," she said, her eyes widening.

Elliot scraped his teeth along his lower lip. "He was in remission for a while, but had a sudden and pretty severe recurrence. The man died five days ago."

"There's our stressor," Rossi said, rubbing his hand along his forehead. "Okay, so what's this?" he asked, pointing to the papers Elliot had thrown down. "The next great work by Marcel Proust?"

A chorus of soft laughter broke the tension of the room, but Elliot cleared his throat. "No, uh, it's every move he made for GreenLight since he got the job. He was, in fact, working on a job in Canada, the dates of the murders up that way." He flipped over a clipped stack to reveal a few highlighted lines of type. "He was in Alaska, too, on the same days those kids…" he took a breath, shaking his head. As he flipped another stack over, he gestured to the remaining pages. "And his stops line up with every single recent incident."

Reid looked up, his phone in his hands. "Where is he now?" he asked. He held up his phone. "An eight-year-old girl was just reported missing, the mother claims she was taken from a department store parking lot along Route Ninety."

Elliot snapped and pointed to Morgan, who immediately pulled out his own cell phone. "Hey, sweet thing," he said, obviously talking to Garcia. "Any way you can get a trace on a truck for me, baby-girl?" He laughed at the response, and then spoke to Elliot. "License plate number and GSP code?"

Olivia pulled the top page off of the re-stacked papers and handed it to Morgan, who rattled off a bunch of numbers to Garcia.

Hotchner looked at Elliot, and then at Olivia, and said, "Commendable."

They nodded at him, taking the compliment for what it was. They both knew he was not yet fully warmed up to Elliot, and it was as good as it was going to get for some time. They smiled at each other as a silent declaration of love passed between them.

Emily looked on, uncertainty and confusion in her eyes. She wondered how two people who had the jobs and mentalities that they had could allow themselves to be so vulnerably consumed by another person, how they could set the dark truth and bitter reality aside and give in to the absurd notions of absolute trust and devotion to another person. Her eyes darted to Hotchner, then, and remembered words he whispered to her once-upon-a-time, promises he made to her between the sheets that, she thought, were only temporarily hers. It became clear that she was the one with the differing mentality, and maybe he was the one in the wrong. She reached for Hotchner, almost touching his arm, but Morgan's voice stopped her from grabbing hold.

"We got him," Morgan said, still on the phone, grabbing his jacket. "He's on the move, heading down the highway."

"I know where he's going," Reid said, rising. He was holding up a few pages of the work log. "His truck stopped at the same address, almost immediately after the abductions." He handed the pages to Elliot.

"You read through that entire fucking thing, in three minutes?" he asked, still amazed by Reid's skills.

Reid laughed. "No, of course not," he said, folding his arms. He jerked his head and flicked his hair out of his eyes and said, "It was two, it took me a minute to re-organize and restructure the remaining pages, and of course I wanted to wait until Morgan was done speaking, I didn't want to be rude."

Laughing, Elliot slapped Reid on the side of the arm. "Good work, Doc," he chuckled. He looked at Morgan and Rossi, and then his eyes landed on Olivia. "Let's go," he said, wrapping a hand around her wrist and pulling her out of the room, following Morgan.

Hotchner grabbed his keys and got out of his seat, but was stopped when Prentiss finally clutched his arm. He looked down. "Can it wait? We need to…"

"I may have been wrong," she said softly, interrupting him, "But…I need you to prove it."

Hotchner, his eyes opening only slightly wider, allowed himself to give her a half-smile. "After this is done," he said, giving her a single nod. "If you're sure."

She let him go, and then, because she had her name attached to the case, too, rose to her feet, and followed him, feeling, for the first time, like she was the prey, and not the predator.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


End file.
